


A Memory in Ink

by owlways_and_forever



Series: The Mischief They Create [32]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Tattoos, first wizarding war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlways_and_forever/pseuds/owlways_and_forever
Summary: When the war and family is getting him down, Sirius does what he always does to ease his mind...he goes to his favourite tattoo parlour.
Series: The Mischief They Create [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888561





	A Memory in Ink

**Author's Note:**

> HSW&W, Assignment 9 | House: Gryffindor | Subject: Childcare, Task 1| Prompt: Write about someone going to a special/private place when things felt too much | WC: 841
> 
> Insane Prompt Challenge, #495 - [Setting] Tattoo Parlour

Sirius listened to the low buzz and felt all of his muscles relax in turn. It had been a hellish day, and he had spent most of it counting down the minutes until he could seek refuge. He had become a fixture at the small backalley tattoo parlour, and eventually they'd given him something of a consulting position. Sirius was welcome to come in anytime he wanted and sit in the back office, drawing designs for tattoos. Some he did with himself in mind, others just seemed to appear out of nowhere and materialize on the paper. A few times a week, he would sit down with clients and help design whatever it was they imagined, and he always enjoyed that. Even though he wasn't allowed to ink anyone, Sirius always loved seeing his designs on other people, and he always enjoyed seeing how much they loved it.

The day had started with a fight. Sirius had forgotten to put the milk away the night before, and of course it had gone sour. Remus, ever the penny-pincher, had been furious, and his silent anger had been the worst start to the morning that Sirius could have imagined. Until he'd read the Prophet at lunchtime, and found his brother's name in the list of Missing & Presumed Dead. It had hit him like a punch in the gut. Somehow, no matter how long he had been estranged from his family, he never could seem to hold it against Regulus. Poor kid was a product of his environment, and Sirius could only imagine the kind of pressure and abuse that had been turned on his brother once he'd run off. It couldn't have been easy. Regulus had made so many wrong choices along the way, but Sirius believed that he was a good person.

All afternoon, he hadn't been able to stop his mind from spinning. Where was Regulus? Was he actually dead? What could have happened to him? Was it someone from the Order? Had it been one of his friends? That raised a truly uncomfortable question that Sirius most definitely did not want to think about. If one of his friends had killed his brother, would Sirius ever be able to forgive them for it? He wanted to think that he would. He wanted to think that he would know that they would never do it if it weren't absolutely necessary - wasn't that the difference between the good guys and the bad guys after all? But deep down, Sirius knew it wasn't true. There were people among the Order who were a little too free with their Avada Kedavras, and little too vigorous with their Depulsos. Accidents happened. And if one of his friends had been the cause of his brother's death - or vice versa - Sirius knew on some level that something between them would be irrevocably broken. He couldn't deal with that knowledge, so he had fled to his own personal sanctuary.

Sirius let his hand move freely across the paper, nothing in mind but trusting that the final product would reveal itself in time. The minutes all blurred together as he worked, his mind blissfully blank and clear of worry. He sketched absentmindedly for a long time, letting his concerns and stresses drift away with each stroke of his pencil. After a while, he felt more relaxed and calm, and he stopped to look at what he had drawn. Regulus, he sighed to himself. On his paper was a detailed sketch of a blackbuck skull, with an ornate coronet nestled between its long antlers. A snake wound protectively - or maybe possessively - around the top of the right antler, while the left was adorned with white gardenias. Regulus' favourite animal, his House, even the flowers he liked. And to top it all off, an ornate coronet was nestled amongst the curved horns for the prince of the Black family. It was an image in four parts, all reminding him achingly of his brother. Sirius looked down at the bare skin of his left forearm, thinking…

"Hey, Black," the shop's manager said, poking his head through the doorway and startling Sirius out of his thoughts. "There's a client on the phone, wants a consult today. You want to take it?"

"Sure," Sirius answered, although he was not entirely paying attention. "Do you have any free appointments today?"

"Yeah, I should have some time in an hour or two," the tattooist replied. "You looking to get another one?"

"What do you think?" Sirius asked, sliding his drawing across the table.

"Where?" he asked, and Sirius tapped his left forearm - precisely the spot where his brother bore the Dark Mark. "Don't see why not. You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sirius smiled wistfully as he looked down at the design. As he gazed at it, he could feel the longing to keep his brother close to him crawl across every inch of his skin. "That's the one."


End file.
